Chamomile

By the river of your absence,
the murky waters flow to east,
nearby i quietly sit,
touching the growing chamomile,
white and yellow symphony of art
I need warmth and calmness and
hope, and purity in my heart.

vision of our last date
when we were children dressed
with yellow and white,
my chamomile dress touching
your knees, while drinking tea
on that far away summer balcony...

{© n.nour}
01.03.014